


The sound of forever

by martainez



Series: perfectly imperfect [5]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, M/M, Sleepiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-13 01:15:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16007213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/martainez/pseuds/martainez
Summary: Phil thinks jet lag is a bitch, Dan secretly thinks it's a blessing.yet another fic to satisfy your cravings for snuggles.





	The sound of forever

**Author's Note:**

> it's officially only 1 month left until I turn 18. Go me!

The clock on the wall seemed to tick louder and louder for every second passing. The constant melody that usually was nothing but a white noise, a background sound that the mind filtered away, was today biting at Phil's brain. 

It wasn't hurting him. Not like the sound of children eagerly playing does to a migraine. Or like the sound of a school bell does to a nervous first-year student.No, this sound - this ticking - was just irritating. It was crawling under Phil's skin, reminding him of all the hours that were left until the sun started to settle and it's acceptable to go to bed. 

"Phil, that clock's done nothing wrong, stop giving it a death stare" he hears Dan saying, they are sitting next to each other on the couch, with a computer in Dan's lap and surely a handful of tabs open on the browser. All of them showing different menus of their favourite restaurants. 

"It's _so_ loud," Phil says, his voice quiet. He's not even sure you can hear it over the freaking ticking. But of course, Dan manages, because let's be honest; it's not _that_ loud. 

And that's exactly what he says.

"It's not that loud." 

"It _is_..," Phil whines, he's turning to look at Dan, giving him his best puppy dog eyes, pleading for him to do something, _please_. Dan gives in, just like he always does. He gives the laptop to Phil, stands up and hurries over the wall. 

"You're the worst," he says as he removes the batteries from the clock. The ticking dies down immediately and _oh god_ does it feel good. Phil even gives off a pleasant sigh and relaxes further down in the couch. He catches Dan's eyes and mouthes him a 'thank you'.  
  
  


* * *  
  


They just couldn't decide, there were too many alternatives. How could one be able to choose between Chinese, Indian and Italian? They're all good, so good in fact that Dan and Phil choose to go with all three. 

The coffee table was covered from corner to corner with rubber boxes and plastic containers, containing all kinds of pasta, three types of marinated chicken, something labelled '#20 pork/beef'. And on top of that; five sides and eleven sauces and dips. 

The tv is playing some kind of obscure anime, one that no one really recommended but somehow made its way to their ‘watch later’ playlist. 

Neither is paying attention, even though they should, because right at this moment the hero is in a death fight with some kind of fantasy monster. It’s probably very important for the story, and they will have to re-watch this episode in order to fully understand the storyline.   
  
But right now there’s no time to get invested in a story, because Dan’s stomach is singing for food. So he digs in immediately, forgets about everything that’s called table manners. He basically shoves down the food in front of him, only pausing to take a sip of his Diet Coke.

He doesn’t stop until the first dish is finished and he’s reaching for the next. That’s when he manages to catch a glance at Phil’s plate. 

It lies almost untouched right in front of Phil. It looks like he has been mixing everything together but then decided that it takes too much effort to actually bring the fork to his mouth. 

“Not hungry?” he asks as he moves his eyes to look up at Phil. And what he sees... well, it’s what even someone as grumpy as Dan would call ‘adorable’.

Phil is sitting on the couch, his back reclined and with his cheek resting on his shoulder. The arms are hanging loosely by his sides. Eyes are closed and mouth slightly ajar. He looks small, vulnerable and something in Dan hurts, like a sense of a need to protect what’s his from all the dangers in the world. 

_Asleep._ Phil’s asleep on the couch, and who is Dan to blame him? It’s only 8 pm, but that’s half past 12 pm in Mumbai. And Phil has always been a slave to the jet lag’s rule. 

So Dan does what a good boyfriend should do. He stretches his arm around Phil and pulls him closer until he is almost sitting in Dan’s lap and with his head now secured in the gap between Dan’s neck and shoulder. He stirs slightly in his sleep, adopts to the new position by draping his arm around Dan’s middle and squeezing _oh so lightly_.

Phil will regret this tomorrow, when the birds are still quiet and the morning is still just a concept. He will wake up with an aching back and stiff neck, most likely complain for hours on end until Dan eventually gives in and starts massaging him. He’ll crave attention and cuddles all night, blame his neediness on his sore body. 

(Though, they’ll both know that’s bullshit; Phil’s just a sleep deprived old man who wants some love. He’s just too anxious to actually ask for it, he’d rather blame something physical than voice his thoughts. But that’s just something Dan has learned to live with, he may not have the ability to read minds, but this is damn close.)

Dan rests his head atop Phil’s, focusing on the what’s happening on the tv. It’s weird, maybe just because it’s out of context or maybe because it’s quite not his taste. He doesn’t really care, to be honest, the only reason he’s watching at the moment is to not disturb his friend. 

Realistically, he should wake him up and walk him to bed, but his messy hair and wonky glasses are too cute to look at, and yes, maybe Dan’s a bit egoistic but he’ll just let him sleep for a few minutes, maybe until the end of the episode. Maybe he’ll watch two, just to be a good boyfriend. Or pillow. Or whatever role he is playing in their relationship at the moment.  


  
* * *

  
When Phil wakes up it’s in their bed. The room is pitch black with not even as little as a streetlight lighting up from outside the window. It’s quiet, unexpectedly so. Usually, there’s some sort of sound disturbing the quiet of the night. Soft snores or even creaks that occurs when you’re an uneasy sleeper and feel the need to turn around every other hour.

He reaches out, pats the mattress, with the hope that he would find some skin. Soft skin, attached to a soft human that he can softly cuddle up next to. 

Disappointment, that’s the reality he’s met with. There’s no skin, no human. Just an empty side of the bed, cold sheets that’s evidence enough that he’s not only alone right now but that he’s been alone ever since someone forced him to almost sleepwalk to bed.

_Not okay._

He gets up, the cold air in the room makes him shiver. He then grabs his glasses that’s been placed on his bedside table, puts them on and _oh, the world suddenly became a lot clearer._

The bed looks inviting and for a good minute, he considers going back, luckily a genial idea forms in his head. He wraps himself in the duvet, using it like some sort of half quilt half fashionable jacket. (Or poncho…? _maybe that’s the right word?_ )

After almost a decade together Phil’s grown used to all of Dan’s habits. Especially the one where he stays up all night to google meaningless things to gain meaningless knowledge. It’s almost a fact by now: if Dan’s not in bed by midnight, you can be sure to find him in the lounge, mid-reading some article. 

(And as Phil assumed; tonight’s not the exemption that confirms the statistics.)  
  
  


* * *  
  


Phil’s standing on top of the stairs, leant against the railing that keeps him from tumbling down. He’s watching as Dan scrolls down some page, he can’t make out any details on the screen due to the brightness being set on low. 

“Time’s it?” he croaks, sleepiness evident in his voice. 

Dan’s head turns around quickly, he’s surely surprised (and maybe even slightly jump scared) by the voice coming from behind him.  


“Phil,” he says softly, maybe it's supposed to be a question, a wonder why he’s up and not fast asleep. Phil’s not entirely sure.

However, it’s not really an answer either, but Phil doesn’t really care about the question. Instead, he walks up to the couch, Dan’s eyes following him the entire time. 

No conversation is needed for Dan to remove the computer from his lap, he does it mindlessly and puts it on the coffee table. Neither is he surprised when Phil flops down next to him and basically crawls into his arms. He holds them open, as an invitation that Phil doesn’t really need, he’d have found a way to invite himself anyway. 

Phil sighs with content as he relaxes into Dan. The weight of sleep once again falls heavy over him, and the feeling of his eyelids growing heavier and heavier. There’s a hand in his hair, he feels. It’s massaging his scalp, releasing tension he didn’t even know he had. 

“Can I join you under the duvet?” Dan whispers, he doesn’t wait for an answer but finds the opening and settles down under it. 

Phil’s barely coherent as his eyes start to shut, but in his foggy state of mind, he manages to catch sight of the wall. The clock is back up, it’s ticking, but this time it’s not loud and irritating. Now it’s comforting, a reminder of all the years they have spent together, and all the years that’s yet to come. 

_it’s the sound of forever_

**Author's Note:**

> @hmartainez on twitter, say hi?


End file.
